birch swinging
"I want to hear Jazz with my eyes
closed, and dig my toes into the sand dancing. I want to climb to the
summit and yell and sleep under the stars. I want to Laugh my head off
and play marbles and sleep in and eat croissants in bed with butter and
marmalade and spill coffee and wear lace and trip holding your hand
because I am listening so closely."
--BRAVE ON THE ROCKS by Sabrina Ward Harrison.
Lately I have been finding myself traveling, to Egypt and Italy and Ireland and Peru on a moments notice, taking in the people and the food, soaking up the sights&sounds&sands&scenes&spices, roaming in blue dresses on red vespas through countrysides and dancing in silks and henna and standing with an exotic man in an exotic rainforest, just two hand-holding-humans feeling infinitelysmall. But then a slight touch or a noise brings me back and I am not a holder of hands in exotic forests but a holder of meat in a damp factory. And I realize how much I long to travel, to step foot in lands so intricately imagined in my minds eye, to put on the preverbial strangers shoe and walk the world for a bit. But I know that these travels take time. And so although I long for something more exotic and unknown, everyonce in a while when my travelling shoes take me nowhere but home after a long day at work I can smile, knowing that for now it is just as beautiful. And I become an accidental tourist at my own front door.
p.s how did everyone's registration for courses turn out??
--BRAVE ON THE ROCKS by Sabrina Ward Harrison.
Lately I have been finding myself traveling, to Egypt and Italy and Ireland and Peru on a moments notice, taking in the people and the food, soaking up the sights&sounds&sands&scenes&spices, roaming in blue dresses on red vespas through countrysides and dancing in silks and henna and standing with an exotic man in an exotic rainforest, just two hand-holding-humans feeling infinitelysmall. But then a slight touch or a noise brings me back and I am not a holder of hands in exotic forests but a holder of meat in a damp factory. And I realize how much I long to travel, to step foot in lands so intricately imagined in my minds eye, to put on the preverbial strangers shoe and walk the world for a bit. But I know that these travels take time. And so although I long for something more exotic and unknown, everyonce in a while when my travelling shoes take me nowhere but home after a long day at work I can smile, knowing that for now it is just as beautiful. And I become an accidental tourist at my own front door.
p.s how did everyone's registration for courses turn out??